


Look When You Can't Touch

by peachiesundae (paperbeck)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Public Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Semi-public masturbation, Tight Shirts, Voyeurism, mmmmmm, that's the most accurate tag but the others give you the idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperbeck/pseuds/peachiesundae
Summary: Kinktober 2020 Day 3:  Voyeurism/ExhibitionismOikawa and Ushijima don't necessarily use the store's dressing room for its intended purpose.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Look When You Can't Touch

Oikawa had really wanted to try on some new clothes, and just to ruffle Ushijima’s feathers, he picked out a couple things for him in similar colors. The blue t-shirt he’d found had an interesting cut around the neck, and he wanted to try it on before buying.

As he turned, he saw a men’s button down with a similar blue that faded with an ombre into white just under the third button. His mouth watered as he thought about his Ushiwaka-chan wearing it, right against his shoulders and pecs, and he snatched it up.

Ushijima was following him around the store, looking about as bored as he always did. Oikawa grabbed a couple other things that caught as he passed by, and grabbed Ushijima by the hand to lead them toward the dressing room.

Apparently, everyone and their entire family wanted to try on clothes today; the line for the dressing rooms was longer than Oikawa had ever seen it.

He turned to Ushijima with a pouty face. “Do we /have/ to wait in line?”

Ushijima’s eyes looked over the items gathered in Oikawa’s arms. “If you want to buy things without trying them on, it’s your money to waste, but this,” he said, pulling out the button down Oikawa had picked out, “doesn’t look like it’s your size. If you want me to wear it, I will try it on first.”

Oikawa snatched the sleeve of the shirt and shoved it back in the pile. “Fine,” he huffed. “We’ll wait.”

They endured nearly twenty minutes of waiting, Oikawa tapping away at his phone, moving slowly with the line as Ushijima simply stared ahead. /Probably thinking about volleyball,/ Oikawa mused the couple times he stole a glance at him.

When they finally got the the front of the line, only one larger sized room was available.

“We can both go in that one,” Oikawa said to the store assistant. “He’s only got one thing to try on, anyway.”

They nodded at him, too flustered by the rush of customers to care as long as they kept the line moving.

At the back of the hall of dressing rooms, Ushijima followed Oikawa through the one open door, locking it behind him. Oikawa turned to hang up the items he’d grabbed, an excited smile playing at his lips as he turned to hand his boyfriend the shirt he’d picked out for him.

Ushijima took the garment and hung it up on the hook on the other side of the dressing room, his hands reaching to the bottom of his sweater to pull it off until Oikawa’s staring caught his eye.

“You’re going to watch me put it on, aren’t you?”

Oikawa nodded, a grin spreading across his face.

Ushijima sighed. “You’re not going to try on anything you picked out until you see me in this, are you?”

Oikawa shook his head, and not seeing any reason to try to convince him otherwise, Ushijima took off his sweater, folding it and placing it on the bench.

His boyfriend’s eyes stayed trained on his abdomen as Ushijima reached to take the button-down from its hanger.

Ushijima slid his arms into it, his eyes trained on Oikawa’s face, and began buttoning the shirt from the bottom. The second button was more difficult than the first, and the third even more so. His normally blank face faltered. “Oikawa, I don’t think this is my—“

“Just button it,” Oikawa said, his voice somewhat hushed. “It’ll fit.”

Ushijima proceeded to button the next two, leaving the one at the collar undone.

Oikawa’s eyes flicked to the last button. “That one too,” he all but whispered.

A small grunt of annoyance from Ushijima was the only pushback Oikawa got; he reached up to close the button at his neck before dropping his arms back to his sides.

“Are you satisf—“ Ushijima began, but stopped short when he looked back to Oikawa.

Oikawa was sitting on the bench in the against the wall of the dressing room, his mouth fallen open. He was gripping his own thigh tightly with one hand, the other hanging open next to him. He looked like he was trying to keep himself where he was.

“Is something wrong, Oikawa?” Ushijima asked.

Oikawa stood, his hand reaching up to touch Ushijima’s chest; the short was so tight across his shoulders, his pecs, /everything/. Even if Oikawa didn’t already know what his boyfriend’s body looked like underneath that shirt, nothing would have been left to the imagination.

Long fingers ran across Ushijima’s covered pecs, catching lightly at his nipples, and Oikawa bit his lip to stifle a moan before looking up to Ushijima.

“Is this what you were after the whole time?” Ushijima asked.

Oikawa licked his lips and nodded, his eyes traveling back down across the expanse of Ushijima’s blue-and-white clad chest. Ushijima grabbed his wrists and backed him up until the backs of Oikawa’s legs hit the little bench and he was forced to sit down again.

His expression turned bewildered until Ushijima leaned in next to his ear, placed one palm over the growing erection in Oikawa’s jeans, and said, “then show me.”

Just the wrong combination of surprise and desperate horniness kept Oikawa from understand what he meant, and he responded with a less than intelligent “Huh?”

“If this makes you aroused, then show me just how aroused it makes you.” The words were spoken simply, but Oikawa knew just how dangerous they were, especially accompanied by the look Ushijima gave him when he backed away and straightened up.

This was a game they hadn’t played in a while; regardless, Oikawa knew the rules. He unzipped his pants and pulled them down past his knees with his boxers so he could spread his legs apart. He held his hand out to to Ushijima, but his boyfriend only looked at it with a bored expression — Oikawa was on his own this time.

He gathered spit in his mouth before slathering it on his hand with his tongue. He then wasted no time in wrapping his fingers around his exposed cock.

Oikawa often liked to close his eyes when he jacked off, preferring whatever mental image he could con just himself over what was truly in front of him. This time, though, he kept his eyes open. The image of his boyfriend, beefy and handsome, sexy and gorgeous, wearing a tight shirt and watching him jerk off in a public dressing room? If that didn’t get him off, he wasn’t sure what would.

As much as Ushijima wanted to look like he didn’t care, Oikawa could see the flame in his eyes, the rapt attention he paid to the motion of Oikawa’s hand as it slid up and down his shaft. His hand was curled into a fist at his side with the effort it took not to push Oikawa to his knees and have him hold onto the bench for dear life.

Oikawa could see, in the faint twitches of Ushijima’s expression, that inside his mind he was taking Oikawa apart piece by piece. He wanted it, wanted to feel every pain and pleasure his boyfriend imagined inflicting on him, and Oikawa brought his other hand to his mouth to stifle any noises he might let out.

His eyes raked back across Ushijima’s abdomen, up his chest and across his shoulders, drinking in the image of carefully crafted fabric over a toned body, when his eyes landed on Ushijima’s biceps. The shirt clinch there, too, and when he thought of how weightless he was when Ushijima manhandled him, he shut his eyes for just a second and sped up his hand.

He meant to open his eyes again, but the image of Ushijima in that shirt would be burned into his mind for a while, and his eyes only clenched shut tighter as he neared release. Oikawa’s moans only became more difficult to hold in, and he felt himself slipping, just one moan, one noise, if he could let one out, he could cum—

A large hand surrounded his wrist. “Stop,” he said, his voice low enough that even the next changing room wouldn’t have heard it.

Oikawa barely contained his whine, electing instead to plead with his eyes. “But I’m so—“

“I know,” Ushijima whispered back, “but I’m not letting your show finish here." He was silent for a moment as he removed the shirt Oikawa had selected before putting it back on the hanger and grabbing his sweater.

“Which would you prefer,” he asked bluntly, pulling his arms through the sleeves “new clothes, or a second round?”

Oikawa ground his teeth and pushed himself back into his pants, stalking out the door past Ushijima with all the clothes he’d intended to try on still on their hangers.

“Come on then,” he said over his shoulder petulantly. “But you’d better be buying that damn shirt.”

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for Haikyuu! I always like feedback, especially on characterization :)
> 
> Title is from the song "I Get Off" by Halestorm


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